boring people though they might be, he thought. But he reminded himself that Miss Brown needed to be taught a lesson, and that lesson was to make her fall in love with one Lord Charles Marsham.
‘I shall take you for an ice at Gunter’s,’ he said.
‘I have not yet had breakfast,’ exclaimed Harriet. ‘And besides, Gunter’s will not be open yet.’
‘You shall have a delicious ice for breakfast, and Gunter himself may take down the shutters for us if he is still closed.’
The fog was closing in, throwing a sooty veil over the town. Link boys flickered through the fog like fireflies. London had become a secretive place, a changed place where it was surely quite in order for Miss Brown to eat an ice for breakfast.
And so, still with that excited feeling of adventure, Harriet climbed into Lord Charles’s carriage. This time he had his tiger perched on the back, not a boy, but a wizened little man who looked like the ex-jockey he in fact was. The cat was lying stretched out on the driving-seat, protesting lazily at being moved.
‘Tom is getting rather fat,’ said Harriet, lifting the large cat onto her lap.
‘He is a gourmand and likes his delicacies,’ said Lord Charles. ‘I went to a friend’s house last night and Tom ate his share of buttered toast and drank a dish of China tea; and on his return home, he insisted on thin slices of Westphalia ham.’
‘That is decadence indeed. A few fish-heads would be better for him.’
‘I have no doubt,’ said Lord Charles absently, ‘but he does yowl so much at the sight of cat’s meat of any kind. He is a parvenu and shuns simple food, as all parvenues do. You have a blob of soot on the end of your nose.’
Harriet drew out a handkerchief and then a small bottle of rose-water from her reticule. She moistened the handkerchief and scrubbed her face clean. Lord Charles eyed her bulging reticule with amusement.
‘What on earth do you carry in there, Miss Brown?’
‘Everything I think I might need.’
‘Such as?’
‘How curious you are! My Bible, my notebook and pencil, handkerchief, rose-water, smelling-salts, rhubarb-pills, needle, thread and scissors, bandages . . .’
‘Bandages! We are not in the middle of a war.’
‘Oh, bandages might come in useful one day. Salve for cuts and burns, a comb . . . let me see . . . a hairbrush, pins, hairpins, pomatum, tinder-box . . .’
‘Stop! I have heard enough. And here we are just approaching Berkeley Square before it vanishes into the fog. Gunter himself is there. We are in luck.’
Soon Harriet was relishing her first ice, which was such a delicious experience, she felt there must be something sinful in the eating of ices.
‘Is it not very scandalous of me to be here alone with you?’ she asked.
‘Not in the slightest.’
‘You are sure?’
‘If I planned to ruin your reputation, Miss Brown, I should go about it in a more imaginative way.’
‘You sound very rakish,’ said Harriet sternly. ‘In fact, I fear you
are
very rakish. Perhaps you are not a suitable gentleman to put ideas of marriage into anyone’s head.’
‘Ideas of marriage are already in my head,’ he said, smiling into her eyes.
Harriet met his gaze, clear-eyed. ‘I think we should put our cards on the table, my lord, for I do not like deception. I was prepared to go along with your little game to see if you could be of help to the Tribbles, but I cannot let you continue to behave like this.’
‘Miss Brown! What can you mean?’
‘You find me prudish and judgmental and so you decided it might enliven the tedium of your life if you could make me fall in love with you. In that way, you would enjoy a little gentle sport at my expense and teach me the lesson you think I deserve at the same time.’
He looked at her in surprise and then his heavy lids drooped to conceal his expression.
‘You underrate your charms, Miss Brown.’
‘Not I. I do not have any fashionable charms.’ Harriet let out an infectious
‘I shall take you for an ice at Gunter’s,’ he said.
‘I have not yet had breakfast,’ exclaimed Harriet. ‘And besides, Gunter’s will not be open yet.’
‘You shall have a delicious ice for breakfast, and Gunter himself may take down the shutters for us if he is still closed.’
The fog was closing in, throwing a sooty veil over the town. Link boys flickered through the fog like fireflies. London had become a secretive place, a changed place where it was surely quite in order for Miss Brown to eat an ice for breakfast.
And so, still with that excited feeling of adventure, Harriet climbed into Lord Charles’s carriage. This time he had his tiger perched on the back, not a boy, but a wizened little man who looked like the ex-jockey he in fact was. The cat was lying stretched out on the driving-seat, protesting lazily at being moved.
‘Tom is getting rather fat,’ said Harriet, lifting the large cat onto her lap.
‘He is a gourmand and likes his delicacies,’ said Lord Charles. ‘I went to a friend’s house last night and Tom ate his share of buttered toast and drank a dish of China tea; and on his return home, he insisted on thin slices of Westphalia ham.’
‘That is decadence indeed. A few fish-heads would be better for him.’
‘I have no doubt,’ said Lord Charles absently, ‘but he does yowl so much at the sight of cat’s meat of any kind. He is a parvenu and shuns simple food, as all parvenues do. You have a blob of soot on the end of your nose.’
Harriet drew out a handkerchief and then a small bottle of rose-water from her reticule. She moistened the handkerchief and scrubbed her face clean. Lord Charles eyed her bulging reticule with amusement.
‘What on earth do you carry in there, Miss Brown?’
‘Everything I think I might need.’
‘Such as?’
‘How curious you are! My Bible, my notebook and pencil, handkerchief, rose-water, smelling-salts, rhubarb-pills, needle, thread and scissors, bandages . . .’
‘Bandages! We are not in the middle of a war.’
‘Oh, bandages might come in useful one day. Salve for cuts and burns, a comb . . . let me see . . . a hairbrush, pins, hairpins, pomatum, tinder-box . . .’
‘Stop! I have heard enough. And here we are just approaching Berkeley Square before it vanishes into the fog. Gunter himself is there. We are in luck.’
Soon Harriet was relishing her first ice, which was such a delicious experience, she felt there must be something sinful in the eating of ices.
‘Is it not very scandalous of me to be here alone with you?’ she asked.
‘Not in the slightest.’
‘You are sure?’
‘If I planned to ruin your reputation, Miss Brown, I should go about it in a more imaginative way.’
‘You sound very rakish,’ said Harriet sternly. ‘In fact, I fear you
are
very rakish. Perhaps you are not a suitable gentleman to put ideas of marriage into anyone’s head.’
‘Ideas of marriage are already in my head,’ he said, smiling into her eyes.
Harriet met his gaze, clear-eyed. ‘I think we should put our cards on the table, my lord, for I do not like deception. I was prepared to go along with your little game to see if you could be of help to the Tribbles, but I cannot let you continue to behave like this.’
‘Miss Brown! What can you mean?’
‘You find me prudish and judgmental and so you decided it might enliven the tedium of your life if you could make me fall in love with you. In that way, you would enjoy a little gentle sport at my expense and teach me the lesson you think I deserve at the same time.’
He looked at her in surprise and then his heavy lids drooped to conceal his expression.
‘You underrate your charms, Miss Brown.’
‘Not I. I do not have any fashionable charms.’ Harriet let out an infectious
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